


Numb Me, Love Me

by haeyoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Lots of drug use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, eventually hohoho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haeyoon/pseuds/haeyoon
Summary: Tsukishima Kei had thought that college would mean studying, tests, essays, and more studying. What he finds instead is a certain tall (but still shorter than him), cocky, obnoxious black haired third-year who introduces him into a world of partying and debauchery. Both harboring secrets of their past, and both healing bit by bit with every drink and every pill.So Tsukishima Kei begins his descent down the rabbit hole, and his descent into the world of Kuroo Tetsurou.





	1. Ecstasy and Cocaine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovies! Thanks for joining me in this mess and I hope you enjoy this drug-filled adventure c: I guess there's some terminology I want to throw out there for anyone who might be confused!
> 
> Rolling - taking ecstasy  
> Line - cocaine gets chopped up and organized into little lines that you snort up through a dollar bill in one nostril  
> Railing- just another way to say snorting  
> Key bump - taking a small amount of cocaine onto the tip of a key and just snorting it straight from the key  
> Hitting the slopes - doing coke
> 
> If there's anything else then let me know! I know ya'll don't read this anyway so off you go, have fun :)

Tsukishima Kei liked drugs that made him feel absolutely nothing at all. Ecstasy and acid were fun at first, he had never felt so alive, but those drugs walked alongside whispered confessions of secrets and hurt under the cloak of loud, droning music. Cocaine was fun, hell it was simply a playpen of fun, but soon Tsukishima wasn’t looking for _fun._ Give him bars and give him weed, give him promethazine or codeine if he could get his hands on it, and suddenly he wasn’t alive and that gave him wings. He was free. Those drugs instead walked alongside a numbness which little click by little click unlocked all of his anchors, even if only for one night.

Tsukishima Kei liked drugs that made him feel absolutely nothing, which was why Kuroo Tetsurou was his least favorite drug of them all.

 

* * *

 

 

It began with Bokuto and Kuroo’s house parties. The duo and Akaashi had wasted little time in recruiting Tsukishima into their list of correspondences once he had entered Tokyo University.

"Quick question," Tsukishima asked the three innocent pairs of eyes staring up at him in his new dorm room. "What in the hell are you doing here? How are you here?" Bokuto groaned and dished out several bills to Kuroo and Akaashi, who celebrated with a quick high five.

"Kuroo and I bet that you wouldn't even say hi to us first. Bokuto is too naive," Akaashi explained as he pocketed the money. Tsukishima crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows in response. Kuroo then made his entrance, vaulting off of the bunk bed he had been leaning against and crossing the small room to invade Tsukishima's personal space. Tsukishima had grown since he'd seen the middle blocker two years ago, and now hovered over him just slightly more, looking down at his defined cheekbones and honey eyes that always seemed to glint with a side of mischief. He had forgotten just how attractive the leering older man was, the slight twisting in his stomach both exciting and repulsing him.

"We wanted to give you a proper welcome to Tokyo University. Akaashi here is going to be your new RA! Which is how we knew what room you'd be in," Kuroo explained. Tsukishima pushed past him in annoyance, creating space between him and the tension that had been slowly rising with the proximity. Having recovered from the shock of seeing his room crowded with the upperclassmen, Tsukishima smiled politely and detached.

"Well I appreciate the welcoming party, but I do have quite a bit of unpacking to do, so if you wouldn't mind..." He gave a mocking bow and gestured towards the door. Kuroo and Bokuto immediately began to chortle and throw back and forth, "Please good sirs, the exit is this way sir," and "If you wouldn't mind, sir, would you like some tea, sir?" Tsukishima kept the smile plastered on his face through the annoyance.

"C'mon Tsukki," ("Don't call me that") "Loosen up a little. We'll help you unpack and then," Kuroo paused for a moment, peering up at Tsukishima with that ever present glint, "Would you like to come to our party tonight?" 

The first few months had been innocent: drinking, laughing, and playing beer pong until the sun began peeking its menacing head through the windows. Then one night,

“Hey Tsukishima,” Kuroo called as he approached. The glint in his eyes, the smooth, prowling walk as Kuroo cornered him made Tsukishima feel like prey caught in a hawk’s deadly talons. “Try this.” He held up the little pink pill with lithe fingers, and there was only a moment’s hesitation before Tsukishima plucked it away. They always said it was the most uptight ones who let loose in college. And so Tsukishima began his descent down the rabbit hole.

In the beginning, it was worth it. Ecstasy was an entire world of feeling and music running through his veins and Kuroo’s body pressed against his as he massaged his fingers through his scalp in a way that felt oh so good. Everything was good. Rolling at home with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo meant the four collapsed into a bed with electronic music blaring in the background, it meant Kuroo’s lips murmuring against his ear little sweet nothings that they would never acknowledge in the daylight, about how incredible Tsukishima was, how fucking beautiful, and Tsukishima would say it right back as his nails slowly raked up and down, up and down Kuroo’s arm.

“I love you,” Kuroo murmured into his ear and Tsukishima pressed his hand against Kuroo’s chest and parrot the words. A few moments later, Akaashi snuggled into Tsukishima’s other side and whispered the words again and again. They all knew it was the drug, but it was the drug that wouldn’t allow them anything but to _feel_. Whether it was platonic, romantic, brotherly held no bearing; it was an urgent, overbearing need to express affection to whatever was near by.

The only way ecstasy could be described was euphoria, pure euphoria.

It was intense, it was so close, it was so damn alive. The upwelling of emotion overturned all of their lives for just one night, every touch set their skin on fire, and all four would repeat again and again the mantras of admiration, caring, love, and everything else that came with the magic of the drug. Tsukishima for a moment allowed himself to dwell again in the feeling of love, in the way the drug could make you love everyone. He allowed himself to be soaked in the fire he so feared, and for once it warmed instead of striking like a hot poker. But morning would come and the sun would peek out its intruding head and like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, it would all fade and they again would just be four, very hungover best friends.

“Tsukki, you awake?” Kuroo murmured as Tsukishima groaned and nuzzled his head into the broad shoulders. The flashing light on the alarm clock showed 7:21 AM.

“What kind of question is that. Can _you_ sleep?” he mumbled grumpily. Kuroo let out a weak laugh and the arm holding Tsukishima tightened a little.

“Absolutely not. Am a little hungry though,” Kuroo admitted as he disentangled himself from a snoring Bokuto to his right and gently slipped his arm out from under Tsukishima, unsteadily sitting up. “I don’t understand how he can just sleep like that after taking uppers. Adderall, acid, he’s out like a light.”

“I don’t understand how you can be hungry. My jaw hurts, I can’t think about eating,” Tsukishima retorted as he attempted to follow suit, blinking blearily at the unwelcome morning. When had they last slept?

“Ah, Thorny Tsukishima makes his entrance,” Kuroo called his affectionate nickname for Tsukishima’s particularly grumpy morning afters. Tsukishima turned to glare at the older man, taking in the features he had spent so many nights now indulging with. It was strange, how beautiful he could look in the soft morning light that framed the sharp edges of his jawline, hair more disastrous than usual after a night of being tugged and massaged through. It was strange, how beautiful Kuroo was even when they all felt like shit. It was a little kept secret that everything a drug gave you through the night, you returned in the morning. But the one thing that Tsukishima had learned he never had to return, were the experiences with the other three. They had become close friends fast, the weekly drug binges spurring an intimacy that would have required years of experiences and friendship.

“Bokuto can sleep through anything, he’s been that way since high school,” Akaashi explained sleepily as he too sat up from Kuroo’s king-size bed they had spent one too many nights. Kuroo ruffled Akaashi’s hair in a silent ‘good morning’ as he reluctantly rose from the soft blankets.

“I know you don’t want to, but lemme get you some food Tsukki. You need to eat something,” Kuroo said. Akaashi raised an eyebrow.

“What about my wellbeing?”

“You’re a big boy you can take care of yourself,” Kuroo quipped as he exited the room. Akaashi laughed and snuggled back down next to Bokuto. It was these moments that Tsukishima couldn’t tell if the tugging on his heart was a craving or abhorrence, but they gave Tsukishima pause. The morning after, the tenderness with which Kuroo saw to his needs, persuading him with a cooing ‘Tsukki’ to eat when he was unwilling, it twisted his stomach and made his heart squeeze in a way of _feeling_ that he couldn’t stand. Yes, Tsukishima thought as Kuroo returned and earnestly watched him sip at the water he had brought, this tugging was an abhorrence he felt down to his very soul. It called to him, and he rejected it thoroughly.

But it was only worth it for so long. Tsukishima grew tired of feeling, of the need to tell Kuroo about his insecurities and how afraid he was to trust so blindly after what had happened with Akiteru. He was tired of telling secrets, and he was tired of hearing them. The intimacy which settled so comfortably into the air when it was buzzing with the feeling of pills crawled all over Tsukishima’s skin like ants in daylight. Every word that spilled from his mouth transformed into regret, he had never wanted another human being to become his secret keeper, and most especially not Kuroo Tetsurou. There were some secrets, however, that not even the sweet appeal of ecstasy could coax out of him.

What terrified him the most, was how much he now knew about Kuroo. In those nights when the two had split off from the group, Tsukishima learned how his head fit so perfectly into the curve underneath his collarbones, like muscle memory initiating he could trace his fingers over skin that melded to his touch and knew the secrets that lay with the arched curve of Kuroo’s back. He knew that Kuroo pushed people away with jibes meant to infuriate and laughed off intimacy with petty jokes, or that he had grown up with only a mother and how he had worked through high school on top of playing volleyball to help support their team of two.

“But, I don’t know, I guess volleyball was always there so it was okay. It kind of grounded me, you know?” Kuroo explained as he ran those rough hands through Tsukishima’s hair like they did in his dreams. He settled himself ever deeper into Kuroo’s chest as Kuroo leaned back against the wall to support them both. And in this moment, it was so good, it was so okay. But Tsukishima would wake up in the morning and feel that strange guilt that was associated with baring your soul, as if the harsh edges of the world had taught him long ago the way it could cut into him if he dared to venture outward.

Once the cons began to outweigh the pros, once the sore tiredness of their bodies came too big a burden to bear and Tsukishima grew irritated at having to shelve away guilt, they moved on. Like a bad toy that had lost a child’s interest, the rubbish slipped from their fingers because they only knew to run and to exterminate, they moved on to the next drug. And what a drug it was.

“It’s going to hurt,” Tsukishima countered stubbornly, raising and eyebrow and crossing his arms in defiance. Kuroo and Bokuto found each other in laughter while Akaashi handed over the carefully rolled up dollar bill.

“It’ll hurt a little bit but then, Tsukki don’t you trust me?” Kuroo’s head tilted to the side as golden eyes bore into Tsukishima’s skin like hot pokers.

_Don’t you trust me?_

“Not particularly,” Tsukishima said with a nonchalant shrug.

_Trust me?_

Kuroo let out an astonished gasp and hands which had held him against his demons for so many nights grasped at Kuroo’s chest in mock pain.

“After all we’ve been through Tsukki!”

“Those nights of debauchery!” Bokuto joined in with an uproarious cry.

_Trust?_

“We took a drug and let our heads loll off listening to music in dark rooms, truly the zenith of debauchery,” Tsukishima responded in his constant, calm, even voice even as monsters clawed at his vocal cords with fangs made of vicious memories.

_Trust you?_

**_No._ **

_Fuck it._

With nearly a snarl Tsukishima bent over the MacBook which had unceremoniously been flipped backwards, four neat lines of white powder promising Bokuto’s supposed debauchery. Tsukishima exhaled deeply, plugged one nostril, and sucked in the cocaine through the dollar bill placed into the other one. His head whipped backwards as the sound of coke and air entering his bloodstream rang loudly even in his ears even over Kuroo and Bokuto’s cheers. Tsukishima kept his head tilted back for a moment as he was taught as Kuroo quickly tugged the dollar bill out of his hand to join him in the high.

It wasn’t like ecstasy, that overbearing, all-consuming infinite _feeling_ that froze Tsukishima’s brain numb in some ways and yet aggravatingly pried open others. It was a subtle invincibility, one that spurred his inhibitions away. The anger he that had coursed through him just before the line reared its ugly head and the white snow only served to justify its awakening. But it was quite anger as raw energy, an invincible energy that, at least marginally, that marginal cliff that Tsukishima clung to with these drugs, could numb him.

“A round of shots to the four best friends anybody’s ever had!” Kuroo called with a flourish as he poured out the Hennessy. They each accepted their shots with a chorus of cheers and strained expressions.

“Really? Please, go on, get cheesier. I won’t stop you,” Tsukishima deadpanned after finishing coughing through the shot. They all preferred to drink without chaser, to feel the burn, let it chase their demons right down to their core.

“Oh I can little Tsukki, would you like to see just how far I’d go?” Kuroo responded with a leer as Akaashi mumbled something about not getting Kuroo started.

“How about you shut the fuck up with a couple of shots instead?” Tsukishima asked as a grin which he had inherited from the open mouthed, black haired man in front of him settled challengingly onto his face. God, this felt good. When was the last time it had felt so good to laugh at Kuroo’s dumbfounded expression?

_Don’t you trust me?_

_Shut the fuck up._

Tsukishima forced the swelling thoughts to terminate with two more lines and five more shots, he felt like he could drink forever. The four made their way out the room and down the stairs to the bustling party, Bokuto swinging the half-finished bottle with one hand and the other arm slung casually around Akaashi’s shoulders. There was a chorus of greetings at the homeowners’ appearance, but several took a stumbling second glance at Tsukishima, glowing and laughing right alongside Kuroo.

“Hi Terushima- _chan_ ,” Tsukishima purred as he sidled up next to the pierced man. “Can I just call you Yuji?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, attention completely captured from whatever conversation he may have just been having with Yaku.

“Only if I can call you Kei,” Terushima countered as Tsukishima stalked closer, matching him step for step until Terushima felt the cold surface of the refrigerator touch his back. Tsukishima’s arm came to rest just above Terushima’s head, leering over the shorter man with glee. No one, however, not even the enthralled Terushima, noticed the slight flash that crossed Tsukishima’s face at those words. No one except for Kuroo Tetsurou.

“How about Tsukki? I’d like to hear that name come out of your mouth,” Tsukishima’s fingers ran down Terushima’s cheek and the well-maintained fingertips just barely ghosted over thick, parted lips. Kuroo rolled his eyes and excused himself from the conversation which he had long since abandoned. Tsukishima had a tendency to indulge in his flirtatious side under the influence, but this was just ridiculous. Kuroo assumed it was the confidence that only came after hitting the slopes.

“Don’t you like it when you hear it come out of my mouth?” Kuroo’s voice hitched into a gravelly whine besides Tsukishima’s ear. “Don’t you, _Tsukki?_ ” His name came out of Kuroo’s mouth in a near moan, drawn out and husky, that nearly made Tsukishima shudder as he felt it pass by his ear. Instinctively, Tsukishima leaned back against the hardened planes of Kuroo’s chest which he had journeyed upon so many times before, hand transferring from Terushima’s mouth to Kuroo’s. The smallest grin crowned his pale face as the rough pad of his thumb dragged along Kuroo’s lip. Kuroo froze as Tsukishima leaned in, breath and breath, heat on heat, and the soft edges of pink lips so close Kuroo could almost, _almost_ feel it. Every breath Kuroo breathed out, Tsukishima breathed in. For a moment, the world stopped on its axis and the music quieted down, even Terushima’s bemused self seemed to blur out of focus while brown eyes sharpened in high definition. In that moment, the universe no longer revolved around the sun but around him and the bright-eyed blonde who peered up at him with such daring, such challenge. Just one more inch, one more centimeter and their lips-

“Hearing it come out of your mouth makes me never want to hear it again, you wailing cat,” Tsukishima teased as the smell of alcohol fanned over Kuroo’s breath. A beat of silence, and Terushima and Kuroo both burst out laughing and the tension which had filled Kuroo’s lungs just moments before vanished. It was back to the bass of the music that they could feel in their chest, back to golden eyes which spoke of miles between them, back to comfortable and easy. Kuroo shoved Tsukishima’s head with laidback laughter and Tsukishima responded with a glare. Normal. Comfortable. _Safe_.

“Let’s take a shot,” Terushima rolled his eyes as he grabbed the both of them by the fronts of their shirts and pulled them along.

Tsukishima wasn’t sure how many shots and how many lines later his current present was, but he was sure it was much more than usual. With the cocaine still rolling through his system it seemed as if alcohol bounced off with a glancing blow. He was vaguely aware of the hands wrapped around his waist as he swayed with the music, enjoying the freeing of worries which bogged him down and of fears which stilted his breath. He was free. Nothing could get to him as he leaned closer into a body which melded into his with familiarity and reached an arm up to run his hands through that thick mass of black hair. He couldn’t say how long he and Kuroo had been dancing, how long he had felt Kuroo’s breath fanning along the back of his neck, feeling the older man’s breath hitch as he dug his ass a little deeper into the inviting warmth.

“It’s nice seeing you this confident,” Kuroo murmured as Tsukishima slid down his body. There was a twinge in the back of Tsukishima’s mind as he turned around and felt his chest flush against Kuroo’s body as he pushed back up. He attempted to let the blasting music to drown out the upwelling of _bad_ that had pooled in his chest. But cocaine was a short lived drug and he felt the tiredness settle into his bones and a fresh wave of alcohol hit him.

_“It’s nice seeing you this confident.”_

Tsukishima froze as he remembered the teasing lilt of a higher voice murmuring those words. Kuroo immediately picked up on the shift in mood, now gentle fingers wiping one of many beads of sweat dripping down Tsukishima’s forehead. There was an unspoken question in the gesture, one that could only be communicated through the medium of their tacit understanding of each other, built through nights of intimacy. Or perhaps a tacit understand which had settled into their souls when the two had met, something in the way Kuroo could breathe in and Tsukishima felt the very gravity of his presence with the exhale.

“I’m starting to get a little anxious, let’s go?” Tsukishima admitted as he pressed his head against Kuroo’s bony shoulder. It was petrifying, chilling even, the urgency and immediacy of Kuroo’s reaction. He smoothed Tsukishima’s hair back even as he tugged them out of the crowds of people. They both stumbled slightly, tripped by the inebriation as they made their way back to Kuroo’s room. Tsukishima wanted to scream, to shriek with all the air his lungs could possibly take, for Kuroo to cease his tender touches and delicate glances, to not peer up at Tsukishima with concern in his weakest moments and tend to his needs as swiftly as they could arise. Part of him knew that such behavior was simply _Kuroo_ , Tetsurou at his core, was simply his knowledge of the potential anxiety that could be paired with coke, but Tsukishima again felt the abhorrent claws of repulsion at his attentiveness.  But his lungs could not be filled with fresh air to let out even a yelp because his body was already tainted with a poison he had hoped that drugs could expunge but came up short every time.

“Do you want another line? Would that help?” Kuroo asked as he shook the little baggie to see how much was left. Tsukishima shook his head and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on the bed next to his blonde. When had he begun to think of the snarky four-eyes as _his_ blonde?

“Good, because I’m exhausted. And I’m going to have a nosebleed tomorrow. And a runny nose. And a headache. And are you okay?” Kuroo turned on his side, propping up his head to stare up at Tsukishima sitting on the bed, legs pulled to his chest and chin balancing on his knees as he stared at nothing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… you know,” Tsukishima shrugged and Kuroo groaned in agreement. Here it was. The heavy silence that hung in the air when the euphoria of the drug was wearing off, the strange anxiety and the feeling that if brains were made of electric circuits, no current would be able to run through theirs. It was nothing new, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. It was just depressing.

“I said something that bothered you earlier,” Kuroo ventured hesitantly. There was no real change in Tsukishima’s posture, but sharp eyes picked out the slightest tightening of his shoulders, the way four of Tsukishima’s fingers twitched in annoyance, almost as if in threat of potential violence.

“Coke was just wearing off. And I’m drunk. Very drunk,” Tsukishima groaned. It was almost as if saying the words brought the inebriation back stronger, and he gave Kuroo a slightly lopsided smile.

“Want more?” Kuroo suggested with a laugh, reaching under his bed to pull out the rations. Tsukishima eyes the bottle of Hennessy with derision.

“You have a secret stash under your bed? Are you serious?”

“For emergencies. Like these. This way we don’t have to move,” Kuroo offered the bottle and with a grown Tsukishima took a quick pull from it, grinning with the burn.

“Starts to taste better when you’ve had enough of it,” Tsukishima admitted as he handed it off. “I’m very, very drunk now.” Kuroo sat up next to him as he drank for just a little longer, challenge sparkling in that sea of gold. With an eye roll, Tsukishima took the handle back, and back and forth they went until Kuroo held up a hand.

“You hate losing,” Kuroo deadpanned. Tsukishima shrugged. “You’re going to die if we keep going, but you want to keep going because you don’t want to lose.”

“Do I hear the sweet, sweet bells of victory?” Tsukishima gave a little giggle and Kuroo’s eyes widened. The sound was strangely masculine, a gravelly chuckle Kuroo had not experienced before. He threw the bottle to the side and crawled closer across the bed, shoulder blades rolling as he leaned in closer.

“Yes, yes you win. What do you want your prize to be?” Kuroo’s breath rank of alcohol as he drew in the blonde, giving in to the gravitational pull of Tsukishima Kei. But Tsukishima automatically pulled back.

“I don’t want to be with you,” he spat out harshly. There was a part of him that warned against this, but a part that was clouded through the fog of the alcohol, and there was a single-minded determination to fight against Kuroo Tetsurou which overtook all his facilities. Kuroo jerked back the hand that had been drifting towards Tsukishima’s cheek. He cocked his head, hair falling into his eyes as he shifted his weight to all fours and leaned minutely closer but never touching the burning blonde, eyes glaring out in challenge. Their noses were just there, just close enough to touch but never quite passing that barrier. Tsukishima could feel Kuroo’s warmth, the bright sunlight that was Kuroo’s inquisitive smirk and his annoying habit of cracking his knuckles. Tsukishima positively snarled. Kuroo’s hand flashed out and grabbed Tsukishima’s chin with bruising force, fire meeting ice and neither willing to break. For a moment, their eyes met in a collision of two unmovable forces shifting their universes to learn how to mold to the other. And that grin that Tsukishima could feel the very pressure of with its mere presence was plastered across Kuroo’s face, and Tsukishima both hated it and felt the draw like the black hole that Kuroo Tetsurou was.

“For God’s sake, Tsukki, I'm not trying to love you I’m just trying to fuck you.”

_I can’t fuck you because I don’t think I love you anymore. I don’t know if I ever did._

Tsukishima took a deep breath in, allowing the scent of Kuroo, sweaty after a long night of partying but always tinged with the underlying smell that reminded Tsukishima of fresh laundry, to fill his lungs and expel the invading thoughts which had took residence in his mind for so many months now. It was only Kuroo, only Kuroo’s presence that could expunge the filth, only Kuroo who burned bright enough to find Tsukishima in his darkness. Tsukishima hated it but craved it with every breath with every beat of his heart, craved it the way he craved the drugs that could make him forget. Kuroo Tetsurou could make him forget, and so he accepted it even while the repulsion threatened to shove the alcohol back up his throat.

“Does that line normally work for you? Not the most romantic,” Tsukishima mumbled lazily as their lips almost, _almost_ touched, the tension stacking like a precarious Jenga tower, a tension that he could feel down to his stomach, through his thighs, through everything. He felt the part of his mind screaming at him not to do this but, well, damn if he wasn’t fucked up right now.

“You’re not looking for romantic,” Kuroo pointed out. But suddenly he pulled back with a sheepish grin and Tsukishima jerked in surprise, the tension of the moment slowly dissipating. He cocked his head inquisitively.

“I’m going to throw up,” Kuroo admitted and in a flash Tsukishima grabbed the trash bag from under Kuroo’s bed stashed away for emergencies pushing Kuroo’s head into just as the familiar sound of spewing vomit and coughing filled their ears.

“We should’ve took another line, you wouldn’t have thrown up,” Tsukishima pointed out as he rubbed Kuroo’s back to help expel the last of it. Kuroo emerged from the bag, which Tsukishima carefully tied and set to the side, and stumbled into the bathroom to rinse and brush his teeth. He returned to the bed several minutes later and laughed at the sight before him. Tsukishima looked up at him innocently, feigning confusion as he handed him the Macbook and a rolled up dollar bill. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You are, you stubborn, hard-headed piece of shit,” Kuroo’s smile was affectionate as he accepted the line, railing it in one graceful swoop.

“I mean, it is only three,” Tsukishima pointed out with a shrug as he balanced the laptop carefully on his own knees to take his line.

“Are we gonna talk about-”

“It’s only three, and I feel better so let’s go back down,” Tsukishima’s grin was excited, the invincibility creeping back in. He couldn’t help but let out a small whoop as him and Kuroo made his way down the stairs, which Kuroo immediately reciprocated. This was the only time those thoughts finally vacated, when his mind would empty out and the adrenaline of the drug would finally, _finally_ be the only fuel that spurred his body onward. He didn’t want, simply, absolutely could not allow the other potential sources of fuel to cloud his exhausted mind. The only thing that mattered was the white substance shoved under his nose and a clarity which didn’t involve anything but the god damned drug.

Tsukishima grabbed Kuroo’s hand, swiping a bottle from the counter as he guided Kuroo into the dance floor. He felt light, like the world under his feet had finally ceased its attempt to drag him down to where he could not return, like the chains which chafed at his heart had at last been filed through. He felt like a god. Tsukishima never broke eye contact with Kuroo as he brought the bottle to his lips and began to chug.. 4 seconds.. 5 seconds.. 6… 7… until finally a hand came and tugged it away. Tsukishima blinked for several seconds as Bokuto grinned and followed suit, passing it around to Akaashi and Kuroo after.

No matter how much he drank, Tsukishima stayed on both feet, could simply fall deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole with another line, another shot, just one more, just one more. Bokuto’s boisterous laughter and even Akaashi’s following yell of ecstasy broke into his thoughts, the anxiety and pain which Tsukishima had always believed he would need to shoulder alone simply fell away like an old scab. He was free. In that moment, Tsukishima had forgotten that scabs would always grow back.

Kuroo wrapped his arms around Tsukishima’s waist again and Tsukishima leaned gladly into the touch, flipping around as he fucked all of the tension, fucked the build up, just fucked everything, and slammed his lips into Kuroo’s. The darker man responded enthusiastically and Tsukishima didn’t give a shit about anything as long as he had cocaine he didn’t care what kind of drug Kuroo Tetsurou was. Their tongues met in a thirsty dominance, neither willing to give, neither willing to admit vulnerability in the face of their current invincibility. Tsukishima wasn’t sure if it was Kuroo or simply the lingering taste of alcohol that tasted so damn good. But again, everything shrank down to just the man before him as he bit Kuroo’s lip with a near hostility and Tsukishima couldn’t hear it but he could _feel_ the purr that reverberated through Kuroo’s body. Bokuto broke in suddenly, yelling loudly about demanding the pair’s attention and offered Tsukishima a small key bump even in the swarming crowd of partygoers, Kuroo giving him a rueful smile and gesturing towards it in encouragement. They didn’t care much anymore about discretion. The key was passed around and again and again the jolt of electricity that came with the white powder spurred them on. The four danced and drank and took more lines and more and more and more and-

Like a toy that they had lost interest in, they had moved onto the next. And what a hell of a drug cocaine was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm back! I'm alive! Here's a short (very short, I know, I'm sorry!) little chapter of just Kuroo and Tsukishima so I hope you enjoy, and I hope to be updating more. In case you need to know, Adderall is a drug used to treat ADHD but a lot of people use it to help you focus and study and it also makes you really talkative (like seriously). 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! :)

“You want to what?” Tsukishima was utterly dumfounded at the sight of Kuroo standing in front of his doorway, backpack in hand. Somehow Kuroo using a backpack was somewhat difficult to reconcile with the image in his head.

“Study, Tsukki,” Kuroo repeated, “I want to study.”

“That’s great, find somewhere else to do it,” Tsukishima attempted to slam the door shut and instead elicited a yelp when it closed on Kuroo’s foot.

“My roommate is sleeping, please keep it down,” Tsukishima hissed, glancing over his shoulder at the sound asleep Inuoka. “And it’s nearly midnight,” a thought dawned on Tsukishima as he grinned smugly down at Kuroo, “midterm season, huh? Procrastinated a little too much? Not surprising from, well,” Tsukishima gestured vaguely in Kuroo’s direction. Kuroo groaned and tugged on Tsukishima’s sleeve to pull him out of the room.

“Bokuto and Akaashi already finished studying, mostly because Akaashi made him and he can’t make me and I put it off and I don’t want to spend another night alone until the sun comes up so, _please_?” Kuroo clapped his hands together in front of his face while he bowed his head. Tsukishima stood with his arms cross as curious golden eyes peeped up at him to see his reaction.

“What do I get out of it?”

“I thought Daichi was the crafty one,” Kuroo mumbled and Tsukishima grinned.

“Don’t think I’m going to willingly spend time with just you outside of the parties for free.”

“Alright, I know, I know,” Kuroo sighed. This was their arrangement, a nocturnal intimacy that only knew the soft lighting of the moon and the influence of drugs. When the sun was up and nothing was running through their veins, it was simply Tsukishima and Kuroo, simply the snarky blonde and the cunning captain. It wasn’t _his_ blonde anymore. “I have Adderall.”

“You give yourself too much credit, I already assumed that much,” Tsukishima responded with a bored sigh, one hand twisting his doorknob back open.

“I’ll owe you one favor, any favor,” Kuroo blurted out in a rush, desperately trying to stop Tsukishima from reentering the room. Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed in victory and belatedly Kuroo realized that Tsukishima knew him a little too well, that this had been the end game from the moment Tsukishima had stepped outside of his dorm room. “Kuroo, 0, Tsukki, 1.” He mumbled under his breath as Tsukishima laughed aloud. It was intoxicating, that little tinkle. There was something about Tsukishima’s laugh, all derision, all glee, that just sounded like warm blankets on soft beds to Kuroo, if they could have sounds. The one thing he had learned about Tsukishima was his different laughs. His small victory laugh, like the one just now, sometimes just a small scoff, and like a rare golden nugget, that inebriated giggle that Kuroo felt like could melt the snow off of the buildings during winter. He wondered if Tsukishima knew how warm he was underneath those icy blockades. Kuroo knew he could never tell him. So he smiled softly along with Tsukishima’s laugh and pretended that he couldn’t feel the warmth that radiated from his blonde just like warm blankets on soft beds.

“Alright, I’ll grab my things, let’s go,” Tsukishima murmured as he gently twisted the doorknob open.

Adderall was, well, fun Tsukishima supposed. It wasn’t the first time, curling up in their favorite corner of the library because the way the bookshelves were arranged around their table created an alcove that isolated. Tsukishima sat bundled in a warm, red blanket he had stolen from Kuroo, who simply never seemed to be cold, and Kuroo was sprawled across the table itself, textbook wavering dangerously in the air as he read. Although this scene only contained the two, on past nights Akaashi and Bokuto would join the cast in last minute studying frenzies before exams. But that was becoming less and less plausible for Bokuto and Kuroo, who were entering their more difficult classes as third years. Tsukishima instinctively denied the twinge of guilt of not encouraging Kuroo to study, as Akaashi had with Bokuto. It was none of his business what Kuroo did besides drugs.

“Break time?” A black mess of hair popped into Tsukishima’s view Kuroo peered over his laptop. With a heavy sigh, Tsukishima heaved himself from the chair, opting to drag the blanket with him as they made their way through the twists and turns of the library to the open air and a deep breath that didn’t stink of unshowered college students and energy drinks. Kuroo beckoned with a knowing grin towards the seat next to him on the bench as Tsukishima immediately opted for leaning against the pole not too far off. Kuroo liked to sit while he smoked, passing the cigarette back and forth between them, and Tsukishima preferred to stand. A small, insignificant fact about the other, yet so inherently known, bodies shifting around, towards, for each other in a universe where their little habits and subtle mannerisms hung and swirled around them like stars. It was their galaxy.

“What do you want to do, Tsukki?” Kuroo murmured, watching the cigarette fall from Tsukishima’s lips and bright, golden eyes gleam at him through the billow of smoke that followed. The sharp inhale of menthols while on Adderall was a sharp, acrid satisfaction that refreshed the effects of the drug. Neither of them particularly enjoyed smoking, but cigarettes while on Adderall gave them the break they needed from chemical equations and stoichiometry, and damn did they feel good.

“Sleep,” Tsukishima responded with a shrug.

“I mean after all this, after college. You thought about it?”

“I guess you would’ve had to, being a third year now.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Kuroo rolled his eyes, flicking the finished cigarette to the side and immediately lighting a new one. He wasn’t sure why they shared their cigarettes, passing it back and forth, back and forth. Neither had ever particularly questioned it.  

 “What about you?” Tsukishima quietly accepted the cigarette, eyes averted. Kuroo knew when not to push.

“I’m going to travel the world, play guitar in a band, and be a damn Rockstar,” Kuroo shouted suddenly, breaking the mounting tension with arms spread wide towards the sky, cigarette now back in his hand and dangling precariously from his pointer and middle fingers. Tsukishima refrained from pointing out Kuroo's own deflection.

“Your hair’s labored diligently its entire life for that very moment,” Tsukishima leaned his head against the pole, face cast upwards in supposed indifference. But Kuroo knew, knew the galaxy that grew ever larger with every passing day since he had met Tsukishima Kei.

“I’m shocked! Injured! I thought you loved my hair! Oh, oh the betrayal,” Kuroo groaned, flopping dramatically onto the bench and this time neither cared when he dropped the cigarette. Tsukishima waited patiently, until Kuroo opened his eyes and peaked between his fingers at the blonde.

“Not as fun without Bokuto to keep it going, huh?”

“You’re a party pooper,” Kuroo grumbled, and suddenly their galaxy shattered into the innumerable pieces that Tsukishima’s once had, once upon a time. Swirling stars quieted and instead Tsukishima himself was galaxies away, eyes growing dim as he picked the cigarette off the ground and took one last drag before beginning to head back into the library.

“I know, I know,” Tsukishima whispered, eyes wide as he bit down on his lip, fist clenching and unclenching and nails digging deep into tender skin. When a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and flipped him around, however, the same pleasant smile as the day he first met Kuroo Tetsurou was plastered back onto his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“With what goes on, or doesn’t, in that brain of yours, I’m sure you don’t mean a lot of what you say,” Tsukishima answered lightheartedly. But it was a lackluster response for Tsukishima’s normal witty, acrid comments and they both knew it. “Let’s go study.” And this time, Kuroo let his hand fall and soft blankets and sparkling galaxies to travel further and further away.

The rest of the night passed in silence, neither awkward nor comfortable. Tsukishima nestled into his blanket, headphones perched upon his head as he scrolled on his computer while Kuroo resumed his position atop the table and began cramming half a quarter’s worth of information into this brain. Kuroo dropped Tsukishima back off at his building and walked him to his dorm just as the sun was peeking its obtrusive head into the sky.

“Hey, Kuroo?” Tsukishima’s hands were folded carefully in front of him as he stood awkwardly before his dorm room, fingers interlaced and shifting from one foot to the other. Kuroo jolted, surprised at the hesitant voice and downcast eyes.

“I, y-yeah?” Kuroo stumbled over his words, eyes wide and suddenly awake after the long night they had stayed up through. Finally, Tsukishima looked up and gold met gold, a quiet recognition of two souls that had been searching, searching, searching for so long that they had forgotten for what but could never shake the haunting feeling. Tsukishima’s breath caught and the look of abandonment, of fear and anticipation written in blossoming poetry all over Kuroo’s expression was a moment, a picture captured that he felt imprinted into his memory evermore. It terrified him.

“Good night. Thanks for dropping me off,” Tsukishima muttered as he hastily shut the door behind him.

Kuroo stood, dazed at the quick departure, one hand still half way reaching towards what was now nothing but a ghost. It instead reached towards the cold door, hand pressed firmly against the uninviting wood. He wondered if Tsukishima could feel him on the other side, and then scoffed at the thought. Kuroo quietly made his way back to his car.

Tsukishima stood, forehead against the door he had unceremoniously slammed in Kuroo’s face. He almost thought he could still feel the gravity of Kuroo’s very presence which had so consumed him. Tsukishima scoffed at the thought, and quietly walked away from the door with one lingering hand tracing down the uninviting wood.


End file.
